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When Dean pulled up in the Impala, he could see Cas standing near the entrance to the restaurant, waiting patiently. He looked great, in his usual suit and tie, trench coat taken off and draped over his arm. Dean had convinced him that it was a kind of stuffy for the restaurant, that he should loosen up a little. The suit jacket was unbuttoned, shirt and tie loosened slightly to show a sliver of pale skin. His blue eyes stared serenely at nothing, probably daydreaming or deep in thought.
Dean locked his car and headed towards the restaurant, lifting a hand to wave to Castiel. Someone crossed his path and began crowding into Cas’ space. He blinked up at the stranger, then looked away, obviously uncomfortable. As Dean surged closer, he could hear the man speaking in a low, slurred voice. He was obviously drunk.
“Bit dressed up, aren'tcha? Can’t stand to see such a fine lady so covered up.”
Castiel squirmed, muscles tensing as he tried his best to ignore the guy. He’d been dealing with this his whole life, and he hated it. He knew he looked a more masculine than when he was younger, but he still sometimes felt like he was a long way from how he wanted to look, and he didn’t need anyone rubbing it in.
The man grabbed at his tie, forcing him to look up. “Pay attention when a man is talking to you!”
Then suddenly the man was yanked away with a yelp.
Castiel stared in shock.
His boyfriend, Dean Winchester, had the man pinned on the sidewalk, knee digging into his gut while he laid punch after punch to the man’s chest and face, not letting up even after he’d stopped struggling. “Don’t you ever talk to Cas like that again! Don’t even TALK to him! You pathetic. Disgusting. Pig!”
Each word was punctuated by another punch, and Dean was now reaching in his suit jacket for a knife, which he pressed to the man’s throat. The guy was nearly unconscious, sputtering apologies through bloody lips. Dean lifted the knife with a grin, and stopped inches away from driving it into the guy’s chest when Castiel yelled, “STOP! Dean, stop!”
Dean froze, breathing hard. He put the knife away, glaring down at the man before slowly climbing to his feet. He rubbed at his hands, knuckles bloodied as he looked down at himself. He’d let his anger get the best of him, and now it showed, flecks of red splattered on his once clean white shirt. “That asshole deserved it,” Dean muttered as he wiped his hands on his black pants.
He frowned as Cas stepped closer, inspecting his hands. “No he didn’t….he just…”
Dean shook his head, meeting his boyfriend’s gaze as Castiel looked up. What he saw nearly broke his heart. Castiel was clearly fighting to keep tears back, trying to keep himself composed. Dean breathed in deeply, and then pulled Cas to his chest, arms wrapped around him tightly. “It isn’t fair. You deserve better. You deserve to be treated like the man you’ve become, the man you’ve always been. I don’t even understand how people could see you as anything else. You look amazing.”
Castiel was shaking, hands clutching at Dean’s shirt, not even caring anymore if he touched the blood there. He just wanted to feel Dean’s warmth. It made him feel grounded, made him feel a little better. He knew Dean didn’t entirely understand what he was going through, but it helped that he cared.
Dean rubbed at his boyfriend’s back slowly, listening as he talked about how he was almost late to their date because of the stupid bus, how he’d messed up his shots that morning, all the things that had nearly ruined his day and how he was really looking forward to dinner. And now this.
When he’d let it all out and his shaking had eased, Castiel slowly pulled away, glancing down at the blood on Dean’s shirt, which had now smeared onto his, and then up at Dean. “We…can’t really go in there looking like this…”
“Oops.” Dean just grinned and walked Cas towards his car, arm around his shoulders, pausing to smile at him as they neared the Impala. “Why don’t we go back to my place, and I’ll cook us up something nice? Way better than this fancy restaurant.”
Cas smiled, sliding into the passenger seat. “I’d like that.”
As Dean took his seat, he leaned towards his boyfriend, and lifted Castiel’s face upwards, hands caressing his jaw. “I love you, just the way you are. Don’t you forget that. Okay?”
“Love you too,” Castiel hesitated a second under the praise, before nodding. “I’ll try.”
Their lips met for a moment, before Dean smiled and pulled away, shifting his car into drive.